Mrs Singh serves ‘unauthentic Indian’ and great wines from around the world
If you’ve ever been talked down to by a snooty wine waiter while eating out, this new CBD hot spot is the refreshing antidote with wine prices that won’t make you splutter. And the food is good to boot.
Eating Out
Don't miss out on the headlines from Eating Out. Followed categories will be added to My News.
It shouldn’t be so … hard. It’s just fermented grape juice that’s supposed to make you happy, after all.
But as everyone who has negotiated an extensive wine list in an expensive restaurant will know, not all wines are equal. And not all wine waiters are, either.
While wine has come a long way from dusty, musty cellars and the rotund bores of yore, the snooty sommelier, unfortunately, has not gone the way of nouvelle cuisine.
Even in Melbourne today, for every good one who’s in it for the right reasons — the love of discovery, the joy of sharing knowledge, the visceral thrill of bottled history, perhaps even the customer — there’s another ready to pounce on every mispronunciation and look down on any selection under three figures. Whose mission, it seems, is to take wine’s every pleasure and wring it so that all you’re left with is a glass filled with aromas of inferiority, lingering notes of embarrassment and the bitter aftertaste of confusion.
But I have an antidote. Mrs Singh is the cure for every too-cool inner-city wine bar; Bhatia Dheeraj the breath of fresh air that blows away every wine wanker assumption.
Taking over the Flinders Lane site that was until recently Guy Grossi’s pizza pocket place, Pezzo, Mrs Singh is a wine bar that doubles as a bottle shop and filling the fridges and stocking the shelves is Australia’s best sommelier.
Dheeraj was responsible for compiling the reigning wine list of the year at est. in Sydney, and as such was named the best “somm” in the land.
But with est. closing at the end of last year, Dheeraj — who’s spent time in the cellars of Raffles Hotel in Singapore, Robuchon au Dome in Macau and Penfold’s Magill Estate in Adelaide — has moved to Melbourne to join with chef/restaurateur Jessi Singh (Daughter In Law, Horn Please, Don’t Tell Aunty).
And though those previous cellars are as posh as they come, Dheeraj’s list here — some 250 odd-bottles — traverses all price points and genres.
With the unique ability to make you feel as excited about drinking something as he seems to be pouring it, you’ll want to put yourself in Dheeraj’s hands and go on a delicious journey of discovery.
Whether that’s a splash of Shashi Singh’s Mornington Peninsula Amrit chardonnay that’s whippet lean yet still gracefully voluptuous, or a Crawford River Beta oak-barrel fermented semillon sauvignon that’s nothing less than astonishing, there’s real joy to be had tasting new wines here — and at prices that won’t make you splutter.
That chardonnay is at the have-another price of $14.50; the sem-sav just $50 a bottle. But for those who know their rose from their beaujolais, there are two pages of grower Champagnes and a laser sharp selection of all the colours of France along with cherrypicked Australian beauties with names (and price tags) big and small.
Just a couple of weeks in and on a sultry, stormy Thursday night Mrs Singh is packed, filled with a kaleidoscope of Melbourne: 20-something gal pals, business blokes in suits, grey haired tourists, multi-gen Indian families — the works.
It’s colourful and loud and slightly chaotic. With a soundtrack that could throw out anything from Culture Club through to Beastie Boys at any moment, it’s a lot of fun.
For lunch, a $25 thali is offered that’s a city steal (three curries, dahl, naan, rice and pappadum) but it’s by night that Singh’s “unauthentic Indian” menu goes to town.
You could do the traditional wine bar thing and get a platter of cheese (one soft, one hard, one blue, $35) or meat (spiced venison, duck terrine, chicken pate, $30), but you’d miss out on the breads coming hot out of the tandoor.
Along with garlic and plain naan, there’s kulcha (a mildly leavened flatbread) served with such twisted toppings as taleggio and truffle oil, and blue cheese with onion ($12). The paratha — a thin flatbread, served crisp and charred — comes more traditionally sprinkled with herbs and chilli, with a fiery mango pickle and whipped butter alongside. It’s terrifically tasty ($12).
Termed a “must-try” on the menu, the batata chat is a fat nugget of spiced potato drizzled with yoghurt and chutney and topped with little spiced chickpea flour squiggles. It’s creamy, soft and sweet, savoury and crunchy and, though served cold, has a nice hit of heat to it ($12).
A dice of tuna and compressed watermelon provides cool comfort when scooped with pappadum colourfully dusted with beetroot powder ($18), especially when compared with the vindaloo momos ($16).
These Nepalese/North Indian dumplings are densely stuffed with pork and come doused in a vindaloo sauce of complex depth and such heat my brain began to sweat.
But just when my own personal summer was becoming embarrassingly drippy — for they are so delicious I couldn’t stop eating — along comes Dheeraj with an “orange” pinot gris from Italy that’s crisp and vibrant to put out the fire ($16).
Squares of pan-fried paneer — the fresh, mild fresh cheese — sandwiching a crunchy fresh slaw is my kind of slider ($18), while the duck paratha is a bit like a crunchy, smoky subcontinental souva ($25).
People all around me are laughing, eating with their fingers and their mouths full, getting caught up in the busy buzz of a bar in good spirits. Proper napkins, elegant cutlery, beautiful glassware and wines to go for home complete a picture that’s as fresh as a Beaujolais Nouveau.
WHY MARTHA’S TABLE WILL FLOAT YOUR BOAT
THE SOUTH YARRA BISTRO SERVING DUCK TO DIE FOR
HOW TO MAKE INDONESIAN FOOD BEYOND MEE GORENG
It’s restorative, relaxed and a whole lot of fun. If you’ve ever felt talked down to by a wine waiter, come here. You’ll want to singh.
MRS SINGH
88 Flinders Lane, city
OPEN: Mon-Fri from 11.30pm; dinner nightly from 5pm
GO-TO DISH: vindaloo momos
SCORE: 14.5 / 20